Donald Trump has turned his criminal trial in New York into a photo-op and circus stop for MAGA loyalists, literally giving top political allies a front-row seat and rotating his guests each day.
Not that they’re interested in what’s actually going on in the courtroom, anyway.
Sen. Rick Scott (R-FL) became the first notable tourist last Friday. He left mid-morning.
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On Monday, his guests of honor included Sens. Tommy Tuberville (R-AL) and J. D. Vance (R-OH), the latter of whom tweeted the whole time and openly admitted to nearly falling asleep.
But Tuesday’s sightseers were unique in that they showed up just in time to see the most damning evidence yet presented in the case that could jail a former American president—and current presidential candidate—for the first time in history. That’s all the more relevant, given that they include two former 2024 GOP presidential candidates and a congressman—all perceived to be gunning to be Trump’s vice president.
North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum, tech entrepreneur Vivek Ramaswamy, and Rep. Byron Donalds lined up left-to-right at the wooden pew directly behind their leader, with the congressman snagging the aisle seat. They showed up in Trump uniform: dark suit, white shirt, red tie. The first two wore dress shoes. The congressman wore sneakers.
They were present for quite the show. Michael Cohen, the former Trump lawyer who’s turned on his former boss, finally fulfilled his role as the Manhattan District Attorney’s star witness by confirming all the details about Trump’s coverup to hide his hush money payment to porn star Stormy Daniels to save his 2016 presidential campaign. Her silence was bought with a real $130,000, and Cohen was reimbursed via fake legal invoices.
“Was this invoice a false record?” prosecutor Susan Hoffinger asked.
“Yes, ma'am,” Cohen responded.
“And did you continue to submit similar false records... so that you would receive those checks?” she
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And did each of those invoices... make the same false representation, that it was for services rendered pursuant to a retainer agreement?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cohen donned his thin-framed, dark glasses to read the evidence from the witness stand. Trump’s bulldog morphed into the DA's obedient labrador. Every Cohen confession pointed a finger at himself and three back at his former boss.
The three Republican politicians in this Manhattan courtroom were present for every minute of what could turn out to be this trial’s climax. But they weren’t all here.
Prosecutors posted copies of 2017 invoices and checks on the screen, a year’s worth of paperwork that adds up to the 34 felony counts Trump faces for faking business paperwork. As prosecutors cycled through each month, Burgum kept his eyes on the screen, his wavy gray hair brushing up against the collar of his gray suit. Donalds remained transfixed on the same TV.
But Ramaswamy didn’t bother to look up—not once.
Prosecutors cycled through February, March, April, May. Ramaswamy continued to fiddle with something at his lap. (He would later walk out with a black notebook that was bookmarked halfway through and had earlier promised to “share my thoughts over the day.”)
That unmistakable signature—always in a bold, black sharpie—flashed on four massive screens hanging 10 feet above everyone’s heads.
“Who's signature is it?” Hoffinger asked.
“Donald J. Trump,” Cohen said.
Donalds stared at the screen above his left shoulder, blinking three times. Then he turned his head down and roughly rubbed his face with his left hand.
“Was the description on the check stubs false?” Hoffinger asked.
“Yes,” Cohen said.
Burgum leaned further forward, inching toward the screen.
June, July, August, September. By the ninth month, Donalds lost interest and began glancing around the room—toward Cohen, the security officer next to him, the waist-high wall separating the lawyers from the public ahead of him. Ramaswamy still hadn’t looked up once.
October’s invoice and check appeared on the screens. Donalds briefly looked up and left, took a deep breath, then looked back down just before the damning evidence reappeared.
“Can you see whose signature is on the check?” Hoffinger repeated.
“I do,” Cohen said.
“Whose is it?”
“Donald J. Trump.”
November. Ramaswamy suddenly glanced up at the TV directly in front of him, shaked his head, whispered something to Donalds, then went right back to fiddling in his lap.
When it was time to discuss Trump’s final check in December, Cohen explained that the full $420,000 had been paid—the deed was done, the illegal reimbursement completed. The signature took up much of the six-foot screens that encircled half the courtroom.
It was then that Ramaswamy finally looked up—past Trump, past the judge, past even the screens—straight up to the fluorescent light hanging above the center of the courtroom.
His neck needed a break.
Shortly after a mid-morning recess, Ramaswamy turned his scribbled notes into a series of tweets about the proceeding: calling it “Kafka-esque,” complaining about “boredom,” and claiming that “it’s now *LESS* clear than ever… what exactly Trump is being prosecuted for.” He also pinned the blame on Cohen for faking the invoices, not Trump for signing the checks.
All three walked out to deliver a brief press conference, then made their way back inside just in time to hear Cohen detail what he called an intimidating attempt in 2018 to keep him from flipping on his former boss.
